


true love is violent.

by honeyglazed



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Ballerino Kim Jongin, Bottom Kim Jongin | Kai, Drama, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Smut, Underground Fighter Park Chanyeol, chankai are too in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyglazed/pseuds/honeyglazed
Summary: chanyeol is hiding something. something dangerous.jongin is determined to find out what it is, even if it tears their relationship apart.





	1. prologue.

“Well… here she is.”

Jongin squeezed through the small doorframe of the apartment, struggling with the two boxes in his arms. He stopped a few paces behind his boyfriend, gazing at the empty room. It really wasn’t anything special with its simple brown wood floors, plain drywall, two bedrooms, and one bathroom. Despite the lackluster appearance, Jongin couldn’t help the warm feeling that erupted in his chest. The uglier everything was, the more time he could spend with Chanyeol renovating it.

“She’s… cute?”

Chanyeol set down the three boxes he had been carrying in the middle of the room before relieving Jongin of his own. “I can’t deny she needs some work, but we can fix her up no problem.”

Jongin’s lip curled. “Can we stop referring to our home as ‘she’? It’s making me uncomfortable.”

Laughing, Chanyeol nodded. “Guess I got carried away.” He cocked his chin at the door. “How many more boxes we got?”

“Four or five? I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Mhm,” Chanyeol hummed. “Why don’t you start unpacking these and I’ll get the rest?”

Jongin frowned. “Are you sure you can carry that all? It’s heavier than you think.” The corners of Chanyeol’s lips turned up mischievously. His boyfriend crept closer and feeling a little bit like prey, Jongin took a step back until he was up against the door. Chanyeol bent down slightly, his warm breath fanning over the expanse of his neck.

“You weren’t asking if I was strong enough when I held you up against the wall last night.”

Fucking tease. He really thought he had Jongin with this one, and… he was painfully right. Memories of their drunken escapade last night came rushing back. As soon as they stumbled into Jongin’s studio apartment after a night of clubbing with their friends, Chanyeol hoisted him up and took him right there. Right next to his framed picture of his mother and sisters. Originally Jongin thought only body builders could pull stunts like that.

He was wrong, obviously. Chanyeol, though a bit tired at the end of it all, gave him one of the best orgasms he’d ever experienced.

“St-Stop that. I don’t wanna have to worry about a parking ticket our first day here.”

Chanyeol’s low, throaty chuckle sent vibrations down his spine. “I guess you’re right.” He moved Jongin’s sandy bangs off his forehead and pecked his forehead. “Start unpacking. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he was out the door and down the hallway, Jongin wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Cheesy bastard,” he grumbled as he pulled a box cutter from the small pocket of his backpack. 

By the time Chanyeol came running in with five boxes stacked on top of each other, Jongin had emptied and organized the contents of only three. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed as he saw the elder completely overshadowed by his cargo. Jongin ran towards him and took two off the top. “What is wrong with you? You could’ve taken two trips.”

“Didn’t need it.” Chanyeol shrugged, setting the boxes down next to the others. He was trying that strong man act again, but Jongin didn’t miss the slight flush of his supple cheeks and the gentle heave of his chest.

“Awe,” Jongin cooed. He gathered Chanyeol’s face in his hands, playing with the tips of his crimson hair. “My big, brave man.”

“Now you’re just patronizing me.” He pouted sweetly but wrapped his arms around Jongin’s waist nevertheless. 

Craning his neck just a bit, Jongin took the other’s soft lips in his own. There was nothing more in this life he loved doing more than kissing Chanyeol. He was just so passionate and the slightest bit dominating. He set the pace, he took control even when Jongin was the one to initiate it. 

As they kissed in the middle of the empty living room, they completely lost themselves in each other. The fact that they didn’t even have beds set up in their rooms barely crossed their minds as Chanyeol slipped Jongin’s shirt over his head. Jongin made a move to do the same thing, but he was stopped right away. “Let’s keep this on for today.”

Jongin, taking Chanyeol’s words for a joke, chuckled. “I want to see you.” He got the hem of the tshirt a few inches up before his wrists were roughly grabbed and pulled away. “Chanyeol, what the fu--”

“I said not today, Jongin.”

It wasn’t the threatening tone or the way fingernails were digging into his skin that set alarms off in his head. It was the small glance he got of Chanyeol’s waist. He could’ve sworn that he saw something white covering his middle. His lover wasn’t the type for undershirts though. He always said they made quick undressings difficult. So… what did he see?

“I-I’m sorry,” Jongin stammered. He was curious but he didn’t want to get into a fight on their first day in their new apartment together. 

Chanyeol released his wrists with a regretful sigh. “No… I--that was too harsh. I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe later.” Those two words were Chanyeol code for never in a million years. Jongin could sense something troubling him and it hurt to see, but he just wasn’t sure how to approach it. “We should at least get started on the beds. I don’t want to sleep on the floor tonight.”


	2. one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chanyeol's been acting weird lately.

“Chanyeol, stop laughing! You’re messing me up.”

“I’m sorry,” the man in question said through random chuckles. “You just look so stupid, I can’t help it.”

Jongin pulled away for a moment, his face slack as if to silently say, ‘you seriously want to play this game?’ “You make keepthing this tradition up so hard, I swear.”

Every Friday night, at the end of a hard week of work, Jongin and Chanyeol got used to putting on face masks, watching a move, and pigging out on snacks. They never, ever missed it. It didn’t matter if friends wanted to hang out or if there was an emergency at work. With their busy schedules that almost never correlate, this was the only time they got together. Missing was not an option. This one specifically was more important than all the rest. It was their first Friday in their new apartment with an actual couch. They’ve officially been living together for a week.

Jongin chose one of his newer masks that day. Some green tea clay thingy. He had been trying to spread the paste over Chanyeol’s face for longer than necessary. The other kept fidgeting and smiling even though he should be more than used to it by now.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry and I mean it.” He closed his eyes and pursed his shiny, freshly moisturized lips. “Do whatever you want with me. I’ll be docile.”

Jongin turned his foundation brush around in his hand and whacked Chanyeol lightly against the forehead. He most likely barely felt it with his dumb--read: cute--fluffy, white tiger headband but it got his point across and that was all he wanted. “You are literally one word away from having to do this yourself.”

“Oh no. I have to drag a makeup brush across my face all by myself! However will I manage?”

“Chanyeol.”

The elder snickered before darting forward and pressing a light kiss against Jongin’s pouted lips. He then closed his eyes to shield himself from whatever reaction and leaned back against the bathroom mirror. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

With a newly calm subject, Jongin rolled his eyes and completed the task at hand. “We should get to the movie now. I bet the food is cold.”

Chanyeol, sensing inaccuracy with the sentence, frowned. “Does popcorn even get cold?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m trying to make you feel bad. Just take it, for God’s sake.”

“You’re a bit grumpy today, aren’t you?” Normally, Chanyeol would have reached out and pinched Jongin’s cheeks just to be a little bit more annoying, but he knew he wouldn’t like the outcome if he messed up the other’s mask. “If you’re tired, we can go straight to bed after we take these off. I know you’ve had a tough week at work.”

“I’m offended you would even suggest such a thing,” Jongin said, only half-joking. “We’re doing this.”

Chanyeol held up his palms in mock surrender. “You’re the boss.”

Sighing, Jongin spun on his heel and made his way to the living room. He plopped down on the couch and patted the space next to him. Chanyeol hesitated. He could take the simple man’s spot, or he could…

“Chanyeol!”

The more fun and cuter option was to pick his boyfriend up--roughly, for shits and giggles--sit down, and then place him atop himself. At the end of the process which lasted barely three seconds, Jongin was breathless on top of Chanyeol’s lap. “I told you to stop doing that,” he whimpered much like a kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry,” repeated Chanyeol for the nth time that night, and for the nth time, he didn’t really mean it. He liked seeing Jongin flustered, and the latter knew it very well. He was just so cute when his eyes are wide and his cheeks tinted pink. “You know I can’t help it.”

“Mhm.” Jongin scrunched up his nose and reached for the remote. He didn’t move off his lap though and that’s how he knew everything was alright. As Jongin pressed play to some indie film called The Man From Earth, Chanyeol draped a warm, baby blue blanket over the both of them and put the bowl of kettle popcorn on Jongin’s lap.

While the movie was good, as it most always was, Jongin was snoring softly into Chanyeol’s neck less than an hour in. His arms were wrapped loosely around his shoulders and every once in awhile, his cute sweater paws would curl up. It was painfully adorable. Chanyeol lowered the volume of the film when his phone on the coffee table went off. He didn’t really answer it because he wanted to. He answered because the noise was loud and he didn’t think fast enough to just decline it.

He stared at the caller ID and knew right away that he couldn’t hang up despite wanting to. “What’s the problem, Emilio?”

“You’ve been challenged.”

“I’ve been what?” In his surprise, Chanyeol forgot to watch his tone. Jongin shifted a little but thankfully didn’t wake up.

“Look, I know this is your day off, but… I need you to come in. It’s just another self-righteous newbie. It won’t even take three rounds, I swear.”

“Emilio. It’s Friday, you know I can’t.”

“Chanyeol, please, the crowd is already excited and you know what an excited crowd will do when they don’t get what they want.”

“I don’t know--”

“I’ll pay triple your normal night salary.”

“I’m on my way.”

~

Jongin hated very few things in life. He didn’t like the time and every it took to dislike things and managed to narrow the list down to less than ten. Socks, early morning classes, black coffee, and above all, waking up alone. It’s more of a fear than a hate that developed ever since he started dating Chanyeol. Even before they moved in together, they spent every night except on Saturdays and Sundays together. Those days were the worst because not only was Chanyeol working, Jongin could never go visit because he “wasn’t allowed” to know the name of the building or company. To say the least, waking up alone brought along all the insecurities Jongin had about what Chanyeol was doing behind his back.

Was he cheating? Jongin didn’t want to think so but to rule out of the possibility would be stupid. Selling drugs? It would explain the mass inflow of cash Chanyeol got every week, but he was too much of a health nut and way too scared of the police.

Living together, he thought he was over that now because wherever Chanyeol went, there was only one place he could return to.

And… he was wrong.

Jongin awoke rather unceremoniously from the nap he hadn’t meant to take. On Thursday, he made it a challenge to stay awake for the whole movie which he failed too quickly. No big deal as long as he had Chanyeol to laugh about it with when it was over.

He mindlessly put out his hand, hoping to find that warm, comforting body he knew so well, and found nothing but empty space. Jongin’s hooded eyelids sprang open right away. “Yeol?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. “Where are you?”

Even if he went to their bedroom for some odd reason, the apartment was small enough for Chanyeol to hear him loud and clear. But there was nothing. No response.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Jongin ignored the tight feeling in his chest and reached for his phone, dialing up Chanyeol’s number. It rang once, twice, thrice and then--

“You have reached the voicemail box of--”

“What the fuck?” he mumbled as he hung up. His lover wasn’t the kind to just leave at least not without leaving a note or text. Unless… unless he expected to be back before Jongin woke up.

Hoping and praying he went on some unimportant errand like getting more beer from the gas station, Jongin leaned back into couch and closed his eyes. The smell of Chanyeol on the blanket was enough to keep him company for now. His sleep was light though, a lot lighter than the one before. At the sound of the door clicking shut, Jongin sprang into a sitting position.

“Shit,” he heard a familiar voice utter.

“Baby?” Jongin reached for his phone and shone the flashlight in the direction of the door, completely not prepared for what he was about to see. “Chanyeol! Oh my God, what happened to you?” He shot off the couch, running towards him. There was a large, purpling bruise adorning Chanyeol’s left eye. The thing was so ugly and swollen that Jongin was more than 100% sure it wasn’t there before. “Who did this?”

Chanyeol’s expression was a multitude of emotions, mainly exhaustion and sadness. It was obvious that all he wanted to do was sleep, but Jongin couldn’t let him. Not until he got to the bottom of this.

“I asked you a question.”

“Just some drunk man I ran into on the way to the gas station to get some cigarettes. I bumped his shoulder.”

Jongin frowned, nothing the excess of smaller bruises covering Chanyeol’s face and his empty hands. “So where are the cigarettes?”

“I dropped them.”

“W-Why are you lying to me?” Jongin asked, his voice the frailest Chanyeol’s heard in a long time. He instantly mentally cursed himself and gathered the smaller in his arms just in time for the tears to start.

“Jongin, darling, I’m not lying to you. If it was anything of importance, of course I’d tell you! But it’s not, alright? You don’t have to worry about it.”

“H-How am I supposed to not worry when m-my boyfriend is coming home every weekend looking like a punching b-bag?” Jongin found Chanyeol’s face easily through his tears. If it hurt when his fingers brushed against an open cut on his cheekbone, he didn’t show it. “Chanyeol, please, t-tell me what’s going on. We’re not supposed to keep secrets with each other.”

“I know I have to tell you, baby, and I will. I swear on everything that I will.” Chanyeol paused to scowl. He wasn’t making anything better. He was only making Jongin sadder. “I’m just n-not ready.”

Jongin’s bottom lip trembled. He released Chanyeol’s face and pushed carelessly out of his grasp. “Fine. If you want to be like that, be like that.” He stomped over to their bedroom door. “You can sleep on the couch until you’re ready.”

Chanyeol was left in the doorway, feeling an idiot. The very last thing he ever wanted to do was to make the love of his life cry, but… if he wanted to keep this steady flow of income, he wasn’t left with many choices. The moment Jongin found out about what he did, he’d try and make him quit. He’d say some stuff about it being too dangerous and foolish because that was the caring person he was. He probably wouldn’t stop to think about the fact that Chanyeol liked what he did. He never was and never will be an office sort of man like his parents wanted him to be.

Defeated, Chanyeol trudged over to the couch. He probably should take a shower considering he was covered in sweat and blood, but every muscle in his body screamed at him to stay down.

He hoped that this wouldn’t be the thing that would end his movie-like relationship with Jongin. Chanyeol would give up the world for the younger, but his profession? It was becoming dangerously close to second place on the things Chanyeol loved most in the world.

In the end, Jongin would always be number one and that would never, ever change.

“I’m gonna tell him,” he breathed as he shed his zip up hoodie and pulled the blanket up to his chin. “First thing tomorrow, I’m gonna tell him.”


	3. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jongin learns some interesting new information.

Chanyeol set an alarm for six the next morning. He wanted to get up early so he could make pancakes--Jongin’s favorite--and then break the news over them. It was the perfect plan. Almost foolproof. Unfortunately, he didn’t wake up to an alarm that morning. He woke up to the smell of waffles and sizzling bacon. His favorite. Still a bit dazed, he reached for his phone in which the time read 5:52.

Unless he made breakfast in his sleep, something was very wrong. Chanyeol scrambled up and bolted to the kitchen without smoothing down his hair or bothering with a shirt. He was beyond stunned to find Jongin at the stove in nothing more than one of Chanyeol’s hoodies and only half-awake. His hair was a mess and the area under his eyes was light purple. Nevertheless, there was a large stack of waffles, pancakes, and sausage to his side.

Last he checked, Chanyeol was the one who fucked up, so why was Jongin the one making breakfast?

“Mornin’, Yeol. You sleep well?”

“I-I--” It seemed as if Jongin forgot about their huge fight last night, but that didn’t make sense. He wasn’t the type to let things go so easily. “I’m confused.”

“What? I can’t make breakfast for my boyfriend?”

The last time Chanyeol tried to wake Jongin up before seven in the morning, he cried. It didn’t make sense that Jongin would not only get up that early to make him food, but to do it angry as well. Unless… “did you poison the food?”

Jongin guffawed. “What type of question is that? Of course I didn’t poison it.”

“Then why are you… why are you making it? I thought you were mad at me.”

Instantly, Jongin’s expression turned sour. “I was.” He laughed sadly. “Trust me, I was so fucking mad. But then… I thought about it some more and I realized I was being irrational. Whatever this shit is, you told me you’d tell me eventually and I trust you, Chanyeol. After everything you’ve done for me, it’d be kinda shitty to act like I don’t trust you.” He dropped the spatula in his hand and turned off the stove. “What we have is too good to let a silly little secret break us apart. You deserve your space so I’m going to give it to you. Tell me when you’re ready.”

“Oh my God.” Chanyeol could fucking cry. He was one more word away from breaking down and curling into a ball when Jongin stopped. He ran over to him and gathered him in his arms. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so good. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jongin whispered, hugging him back. “You deserve everything good in this world.”

Chanyeol was not only grateful for his wonderful, amazing, beautiful, gracious boyfriend, but he was also grateful for the extra time. He really didn’t want to tell Jongin right then and there. Throughout the whole night he kept waking up in cold sweats because of a nightmare revolving around being broken up with. If Jongin was genuinely willing to give him time, he was sure as hell going to take it. He made a mental note not to take advantage of it though. He would tell Jongin by the end of the month.

“So… I made this a lot quicker than I thought I would and you’re up early.” Jongin trailed a curious hand down the middle of Chanyeol’s bare chest. “We don’t have to eat right away, do we?”

Jongin had to be the only person on the face of the Earth that still found him sexy with morning breath and his hair standing at every angle.

“I could eat.” Chanyeol grabbed a handful of his thighs and lifted him on top of the kitchen counter before attacking Jongin’s neck with kisses. He wanted to show his partner exactly how much he loved him. “And by that, I don’t mean pancakes or waffles.”

~

“Good morn--holy fuck Jongin, you look like shit.”

“Good morning to you too, Taemin.”

Most people hated work, but Jongin happened to rather enjoy coming in every morning. He co-owned a small but successful dance studio with his best friend Lee Taemin. He taught ballet to ages four and up with Taemin taught everything in between to the same age group. Little else made him happier than his class of four through seven year olds. He wanted kids of his own one day and while he discussed it with Chanyeol, they both agreed that they were far from ready for that day.

“I’m not kidding. You look like you just got fucked and not in the cute way.”

Jongin rolled his eyes but tried to make the quick glance in the break room’s mirror subtle. Taemin really wasn’t exaggerating. He didn’t get enough sleep that night and wasn’t able to catch up on it despite only having to come in at noon. “I apologize I’m not living up to your high standards but it was a tough morning.”

“Awe, did the wittle baby not get enough beauty sleep?”

By the way Jongin and Taemin conversed, it would be hard for a stranger to tell whether they were best friends or worst enemies. They’ve known each other ever since middle school and in that time, they’ve gotten used to showing each other love through mean names. “No, but… that’s not really the problem.”

Taemin pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “I’ve got about ten minutes before my students start arriving. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh I’d fucking love to.” Jongin had a normal social circle with just the right amount of friends but Chanyeol and Taemin were the only people in which he could pour his heart out. Since his main problems these days revolved around his boyfriend, Taemin was his only person to rant to. He might’ve told Chanyeol that everything was okay in the morning, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He said what he had to in order to keep Chanyeol happy.

The two friends sat down on one of the benches in their lobby. It was private enough from their two other colleagues warming up in their corresponding rooms but open enough so that Taemin could keep an eye out for his students.

“Chanyeol’s started keeping secrets from me.”

“Oh?”

“I-I know it sounds trivial but it’s something dangerous, Taemin. I can tell. He comes home every weekend covered in cuts and bandages.” Jongin could feel himself getting emotional at just the memory. “Not to mention the strange amount of money he’s started to bring home. I’m afraid he’s gotten himself mixed up in something dangerous.”

When Taemin realized Jongin was done, he began to slowly bob his head. “I think I know what’s going on here.”

“You do?!”

“Yeah.” Taemin’s eyes darted around the empty lobby as if to make sure he was alone. “Back when Minho and I were first dating, there was this club we used to frequent. El Dorado, or some cheesy bullshit like that. There was a whole lotta illegal shit going down in there. Gambling, drug dealing, prostitution, and most of all… boxing matches. They brought in over a hundred viewers a night just for those. We watched a few and at that time, I don’t think you were dating Chanyeol so I can’t really remember if he was one of the fighters.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Now I didn’t say that’s what’s going on!” Taemin was quick to clarify. “It’s just a theory so don’t go jumping to any conclusions.” He knew Jongin well enough to know that once he had his mind set on something, he was going to run with it. Normally he’d let it happen but El Dorado was too dangerous of a place. Taemin didn’t want Jongin going head first into a place like that. At least not without a plan.

“But it makes so much sense.” Jongin’s mind was going a mile a minute. After so much time being in the dark, it felt good to think he had an upper hand. “We have to go, Taemin. We have to see if you’re right.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Taemin’s gaze kept switching from Jongin to the closed glass doors. His students literally couldn’t come fast enough. “I mean it when I say it’s not a family friendly place, Jongin.”

“Well in that case, it’s a good thing I’m an adult.” Jongin stood up. He figured that if he ran off without letting Taemin get the last word in, he’d be the winner of the argument. “My last class ends at four, just like yours. Meet me at my car and we can get ready together.”

“Jongin, wait--”

All Taemin did was blink and his friend was already halfway down the hallway across the room from him. “I’m going to go warm up now!” Jongin yelled back at him, his voice jumping off the hollow walls. “I’ll see you later. At my car, don’t forget!”

~

“You realize how stupid this is, right?”

Jongin only laughed at Taemin’s disgruntled expression as he finished adding an extra layer of clear gloss to his lips. “No, but why don’t you enlighten me?”

“I’m being serious here. Everything about this situation is wrong. Okay, so what if Chanyeol is an El Dorado fighter? Do you think he’s going to be happy when he realizes you’re treating him like a helpless child?” Though he hid it as soon as it occured, Taemin caught the falter of Jongin’s smug face. “He’s a grown man, Jongin. If it’s important, he’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

“It’s been a year. A whole year in which he disappears almost every weekend and comes back looking like hell. By now, I’m pretty sure it’s reasonable to say he’s forfeited the opportunity to make this confession a simple conversation.” He knew Chanyeol was going to admit everything to him that morning. He wasn’t as stupid as he let people believe, but one of the many reasons he stopped him was because Jongin thought that would be too easy. He wanted to put Chanyeol through the same hell he had been putting him through recently.

“And if he breaks up with you for this?”

A shock like an electrical current went down Jongin’s back. That was truly terrifying to think about, but… he was actually willing to take that risk. “So be it.”

Taemin stared him down through the bathroom mirror for a solid minute before letting his shoulders fall. “Fine. I’ll do it. I have two conditions though.”

“Shoot.”

“One, Minho comes with us and you have to promise not to stray off on your own.”

“Deal. What’s two?”

“I get to wear anything I want from your closet.”

That one… that one was a little difficult. “Wait by anything do you mean--”

“Jongin.”

The younger through his head back in a groan. “Fiiiiiiiiine, but if you get anything dirty I’ll kill you.”

“Deal. Let’s get this over with.”

Seeing as it was barely six, they had a handful of hours until El Dorado was even open. That was no problem to Taemin or Jongin. As they waited for the clock to strike the right time, they went through ten outfits each until they settled on the right one, danced on every piece of furniture in Jongin’s apartment, and got themselves pre-tipsy from chilled beer. At exactly ten, there was a knock against the door. Taemin rushed to grab it as Jongin turned down the volume of his speaker.

“Hey baby,” he heard Minho say as soon as Taemin gave him a peck on the lips. “I love the new apartment, Jongin. It looks great.”

“Thank you!” Jongin chirped as he stuffed his phone inside the back pockets of his impossibly tight black jeans. “Also thanks again for coming with us.”

“My pleasure. Not like I had plans anyway.” He and Taemin looked like the perfect couple standing in his living room. They didn’t even try but somehow their outfits matched. The both of them had leather jackets on top of some obscure 80s rock band. Not to mention the shimmering rings adorning both of their left hands. Jongin’s heart couldn’t help but melt every time he saw them together.

“Shall we head out then?”

“Let’s.”

They made mindless chatter as they made their way to Minho’s car parked a block or so down. It wasn’t until Jongin was buckled into the back seat that he got the real questions. “So where did you hear about El Dorado, Jongin? Taemin told me tonight was your idea.”

The prospect of lying briefly crossed his mind. Minho and Chanyeol were as close of friends as Taemin and Jongin. While he didn’t want to be snitched on, Minho could always tell when he wasn’t telling the truth. “I-I--um… I want to figure out where Chanyeol disappears to every now and then.”

“Is that so?” Minho’s tone was almost mocking as he turned the car into the sketchier part of the city. “This isn’t something that could be solved through conversation?”

“If you’re trying to talk some sense into him, don’t bother. I already tried.”

Ignoring Taemin’s comment, Jongin replied to Minho, “trust me. This is the best possible option.”

“I don’t doubt you.” The car rolled to a stop in front of a building that looked like it should’ve been torn down years ago. “I’m just trying to make sure this is really what you want. El Dorado isn’t your typical club, Jongin.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Minho turned around in the driver’s seat to face him, his usually jolly features serious. He didn’t get serious often so when he did, that was a clear sign to listen up. “Seriously, Jongin. You’re not going to like what you see in there, Chanyeol related or not.”

“Oh c’mon, how bad can it be?”

“Bad,” said Minho in a dark voice. “Really bad.”

Jongin wasn’t going to lie, he was scared now. Taemin did say that they used to frequent the club as in they didn’t anymore. He wasn’t worried about what he was about to see before, but now… his heart was beating a little too fast to be normal. Taemin and Minho’s expressions were basically begging him to say ‘screw it, let’s go home’. He didn’t want to disappoint them, but he had to do this or he knew he’d regret it.

“I understand. I still want to go in.”

Minho’s lips thinned before exchanging a glance with Taemin. “Okay,” he exhaled. Once he exited the car, he opened the door for Jongin. “I’m pretty sure Taemin already told you this, but let me make this clear. Don’t leave my side under any circumstances. I mean that for the both of you. Do you understand?”

Though Jongin didn’t appreciate being talked to like a kid, he let it slide this once. Minho had maternal instincts that could rival any real mother. If someone hurt anyone he cared for, they were in for a world of hell.

“We do,” answered Taemin.

“Good. Let’s head in then.”


	4. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chanyeol is caught.

El Dorado was… odd.

The whole aura of it was, for lack of better words, off. It was dark with the only lights being those on the dance floor but everyone still got around with no sort of trouble. As Minho explained, the whole thing was built inside an abandoned warehouse of a clothing brand that went out of business. They converted the two floors into very specific sectors. The bottom was a normal club with a bar, DJ, strippers, and overpowering music.

If the night was to take place there, it would’ve been a lot simpler.

Unfortunately, Taemin and Jongin were being led to a staircase. It was easy to assume that El Dorado’s trademark businesses went down up there. Prostitution, gambling, and most importantly… the fights.

“Still sure about this?”

Jongin hesitated before answering so he could decide whether it would’ve been better to tell the truth or not. “Of course I am.” He settled upon the latter. Taemin still knew him too well to believe it. Sadly, they were far too deep for his words to make any difference. He simply shook his head with the corners of his lips turned stiffly downward.

Minho silently swung a heavy metal door open and Jongin’s ears were suddenly assaulted with a whole new genre of strange sounds. There was cheering, but not that of a group of drunk college girls hearing their favorite songs. There was music, but not anything from the top 10. Maybe not even the top 100. It was quiet and if he didn’t know any better, he would call it classical. Jongin already didn’t like it.

“Here we are.” Minho pointed across the room, past the area where a group of men and women dressed in black played a card game. “If Chanyeol is here, he’ll be there.”

Jongin nodded stiffly. “Great,” he muttered. “Great, great, great, great, great.”

Taemin, still at his side, snickered. “You wanna go home, don’t you?”

“Shut up. I’m fine.”

“You’re red, baby.”

Jongin lifted his hands to his face, his skin hot to the touch. Well… that was no good. “It’s just warm in here.” Taemin hummed in acknowledgement but also in such a way that told Jongin he didn’t believe one word he was saying.

At the front, Minho took the self-appointed job of clearing a way for all three of them. The people up here were not like the ones downstairs. They were darker, edgier. Drunk, but still alert. Jongin was scared that a simple bump of the shoulder could end up with him in a situation he wouldn’t be able to handle. So… in sum… thank God for Minho.

Jongin did his best to keep his head down the whole time as to not draw attention to himself. He could feel the eyes of quite a couple of boys and girls following him as he passed. Even if Jongin wasn’t taking, this wasn’t his kind of crowd. They were dressed in black from head to toe, pierced, tattooed, and probably into a whole bunch of kinky shit.

Making sure his eyes stayed on the ground was actually a lot harder than it sounded. Every couple of seconds, someone screamed and he really couldn’t tell if it was of joy or pain. 

By the time they reached another set of doors, Jongin was pretty sure a whole eternity passed. He felt older, weighed down, and exhausted on top of it all. Mentally, he cursed himself for going for the beers back at his apartment instead of the tequila. A little bit of a liquid courage could be useful.

“Minho, Taemin! Oh my God, am I dreaming?”

This third, smaller, but obviously important part of El Dorado had a bouncer all to itself. Well… Jongin wasn’t sure if he could call the petite, blonde girl a bouncer, but she sure looked like one in her tight suit and clipboard. 

“Hey Lisa,” chuckled Minho as Taemin gave her an excited wave. “It’s been awhile.”

“You can say that again!” She was adorably perky and didn’t give two shits that her voice could most likely be heard all the way at the other side of the room. “We thought you both fucking died. A goodbye would’ve been nice.” When Taemin said they used to frequent, Jongin didn’t think that meant they couple would be friendly with the staff. Lisa kept talking about a ‘we’ so that meant there were more of her. Minho and Taemin were no normal patrons, that was for sure.

Minho laughed again, nervous this time. “Sorry. We just got caught up in our jobs, finding an apartment. Believe it or not, we’re adults now with barely anytime for fun.”

“God, tell me about it.” Taemin rolled his eyes. “I went to bed at eight last night because I was tired.”

Lisa placed ringed fingers over her mouth as she giggled prettily. “I missed you guys.” As if she just became aware of his presence, she cocked her chin in Jongin’s general direction. “Who’s your friend?”

“Ah, Lisa, this is Jongin. He’s a very close friend of ours.” Jongin wasn’t sure what to do after that. Did he go for a handshake or was that too formal for this? He shakily decided upon a feeble wave and muttered a meek ‘hi’.

Lisa’s blood red lips pursed. “Jongin,” she mused. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“I assume it’s a popular name?”

Though she was quite deep in thought, Lisa gave up on it pretty soon. She shrugged while beaming. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. Nice to meet you, Jongin!” She stepped to the side and finally made a move to open the door separating them from the purpose of that whole night. “Enjoy the rest of your night. We have a few new fighters that I think you’ll enjoy.”

Minho clapped her back in a silent goodbye before the door closed behind the trio. Jongin took a few seconds to survey the room before they were walking again. He could confidently that most of the cheers he heard from before came from this room. It was deafening loud so no wonder it was seperated from the rest of the club. Over one hundred people were stationed near the center of the room, jumping on the balls of their feet, and screaming crude words of encouragement.

“They’ll clear up at the end of the match. Each one lasts fifteen minutes with five in between. We can get a seat at the front then,” said Minho, walking them over to an almost empty bar. Even the few people sitting on the stools were constantly swerving and fidgeting to get a better look at what was happening in front of the crowd. “What do you two want?”

“We’ll both take a beer,” Taemin answered too quickly.

Jongin shook his head. “No, I want--”

“Not today, darling. Not tonight. I’d think twice about getting too drunk right before getting into a crowd like that.” He sounded as if he was speaking from experience. “Fucking vultures can smell the alcohol off you.”

“They can’t all be that bad.”

“Being bad is kind of key to survivng here.”

“Neither you or Minho are bad people.”

“Not anymore, we aren’t.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Taemin obviously heard his question but he pretended not to and turned toward his fiance. “Do you have a cigarette?” He asked over the roar of the people. Minho didn’t speak as he fished a pack and lighter from his jacket pocket. Taemin put the stick between his lips and Minho lit it for him. “Want one Jongin?”

“No, I’m good.” Jongin fucking hated smoking. Normally he would be telling Taemin off for putting his life in danger and shit like that, but he had done so much for him tonight so he let it slide. Just that once. “Thanks though.”

Out of nowhere, the yells and chants got decibels louder than they had been just a second ago. Some people started jumping and fishing money from their pockets. “Match is ending,” Minho narrated before lighting a cigarette of his own. “You two ready?”

“I guess.”

Minho scoffed. “Good enough, right?” He hopped off the bar stool and held out a hand to assist Taemin down. At that point, they had to have been shoving their cuteness in Jongin’s face. Most of the caring, delicate deeds they did for each other, they did so unconsciously.

True to Minho’s statement, the area around what Jongin could now see was a boxing ring cleared out. Some filtered toward the bar, some dropped money into buckets carried by women in skimpy clothing. He led them into a bleacher one or two rows from the front. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do if you see Chanyeol?”

“Cry? I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far.”

Taemin’s eyes rolled into his head. “You know you don’t have to play the tough guy act around us. You can be honest.”

“I am being honest. I haven’t thought that far and if I do find out he’s working in a place like this and keeping it a secret…” Jongin trailed off, getting lost in his thoughts before finding his way again. “I’ll probably start crying.”

Taemin inhaled deeply. “I told you there were better ways to approach this.”

“Too late for them now, don’t you think?”

When Jongin was hurting, he tended to put a wall up around himself that was almost impenetrable. Even Taemin, as his bestest friend, only managed to make a few dents in it. Watching Jongin hide his pain behind fake smiles and half-hearted jokes hurt to do. The best he could do was take Jongin’s hand into his own just so he knew he wasn’t alone. No matter what they were about to see, he had friends who loved him and would be there when he needed them.

A bell sounded over their heads and the people that had wandered off momentarily came rushing back. “Here we go.”

Jongin tried to keep his breathing steady but the erratic beating of his heart wasn’t making it very easy. A pretty man walked onto the empty ring. He was dressed in a black band tee on top of a striped long sleeve tucked into black cargo pants with a wallet chain catching most of the light. Despite his short stature, Jongin knew this man could probably beat him up without breaking a sweat.

“Good evening everyone!” He chirped into a microphone with a surprisingly high pitched voice. “Is everyone having a good time?” The crowd responded with boisterous shouts. The man stood there with a pleasant smile until they calmed down on their own accord. “Glad to hear it. Sadly, we’ve reached the last match of the night, but do not fret. We’ve saved the best for last.” As if on cue, the lights dimmed apart from the one right on the speaker.

“Welcome our favorite newbie, Reo!” The crowd was loud as a man in his early twenties stepped onto the stage under his own spotlight. He had a beautiful body but it wasn’t one Jongin knew so he let himself release a little bit of the breath he had been holding. “And last but definitely not least…” he took a pause for dramatic effect. “Our reigning champ, Loey!”

A man of familiar stature with a recognizable gate got up on stage opposite of Reo. If Jongin thought they crowd was loud for the first, he had no other words for how they cheered for this Loey. As the light shined on him, Jongin wished with all his heart that he was able to breathe a sigh of relief, but… he knew that bare chest. That monkey tattoo. He knew every curve of that body like the back of his hand.

“Fuck,” said Minho, Taemin, and Jongin all in tandem.

Thankfully, there were no tears pricking his eyes or lump climbing up his throat. Instead… there was nothing. Jongin watched with a blank stare as his Chanyeol, his beautiful, kind, loving Chanyeol placed a mouth guard over his teeth and stared down his opponent with venom weaved into his narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. He was almost unrecognizable. Jongin hand always thought that Chanyeol’s round, warm eyes were incapable of holding anything but kindness.

“You wanna leave?”

Jongin shook his head, waving Taemin off. “I want to see him fight.”

“Are you sure--”

“I said what I said.”

Taemin exchanged glances with Minho, hoping to find some backup, but all he got was a shrug. Reluctantly, he let himself relax and leaned into his fiance’s side as he prepared to watch his friend get beaten black and blue.

As soon as the announcer stepped off the stage, he rung a bell and yelled, “commence!” 

Chanyeol lifted his taped wrists to his face and seemed to wait for Reo to throw the first hit. Once it came, they didn’t stop. Reo was ruthless in his attack, but only managed to land one or two. Chanyeol blocked the rest and looked barely phased. He fought with confidence and grace. He moved across the ring like Jongin moved across the stage when he danced. He made the brutal act an art form and Jongin was so intrigued that he forgot he was watching his boyfriend until a bell sounded.

Chanyeol had Reo pinned against the ground, a proud smile on his face. Though his body glowed in a thin sheen of sweat and it dripped from the tips of his hair, he did not look tired at all. The blood dripping down the side of his face from a gash in his hairline must have felt like nothing more than a scratch to him with how he ignored it. Chanyeol looked the most alive Jongin had ever seen him. His grin was so beautiful, so prideful as the announcer held his hand in the air and declared him the winner once again.

“The fight’s over. Let’s go home, Jongin.”

“No.” Jongin squeezed Taemin’s hand, urging him to stay longer. “I want him to see me.”

Chanyeol was surveying the crowd as he relished in his victory. Once he reached the section in which the three were seated, Jongin’s breath hitched. He counted one, two, three, four seconds before the color completely drained from Chanyeol’s face and his wide smile turned into an expression of horror.

“Now we can go,” Jongin said softly. “I’ve seen enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on twitter: @honeyglazeddd :))


	5. four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chanyeol and jongin have a much needed talk.

“Holy shit.”

Chanyeol loved the praise and love that came at every end of every match he fought--and won. He loved the knowledge that people, strangers, actually got happy at even the idea of him winning. He actually had fans. People wore shirts with his faces and them and girls more often than not asked him to autograph their breasts. Very little could make him question every decision he made up to the point that got him up on the boxing rink every weekend.

That very little was none other than his love, his light, his everything, Kim Jongin.

The sight of his face accompanied by Taemin and Minho in the rambunctious crowd was far more than startling. Chanyeol, in that very moment, knew he fucked up. When Jongin got up to leave, his expression stony, he felt his body move in his direction on pure instinct. He could’ve and would’ve been hoping over the red ropes if Baekhyun’s hands tightening around his hand didn’t snap him from his daze.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“J-Jongin--”

“You must be half out of your mind to think I’m gonna let you get off this stage before the girls are done making their rounds.” Baekhyun made sure to keep a pretty smile on as he hissed the vile words at Chanyeol through the corner of his mouth. As the boss of El Dorado’s fights, he was very serious about images and his fighters wouldn’t be caught dead chasing after boys like lost puppies. At least not until all the tips had been collected. “Stay put or else.”

Not one part of Chanyeol wanted to listen. His brain screamed at him to run after Jongin, to explain himself, and to apologize. Yet… Baekhyun was a lot scarier than he seemed and in fear of not only what he could do to him, but also Jongin if the need ever arose, Chanyeol did whatever he said. He put a smile back on his face despite the way he was slowly crumbling to pieces on the inside.

Baekhyun didn’t release him until he received the signal from Joohyun, one of the girls in skimpy clothes with baskets that were responsible for collecting money whether it be from tips or lost bets, that they had milked the crowd drive. “Go to your room, treat your wounds, and then you can go to your boy. No earlier, alright?”

“But I--”

“Chanyeol. Don’t argue with me.”

“... fine.”

Baekhyun ruffled his hair like the sweat that dripped from every strand didn’t bother him. “Good boy.” He then pointed below and the slowly thinning crowd but more specifically, those that chose to remain behind. “Also… don’t forget to great your fans.”

For the first time in the three years that Chanyeol had been working at El Dorado, he didn’t enjoy the words of congratulations and the gleeful expressions from the group of teenagers. All he wanted was to go home. Jongin’s mind was probably running a mile a minute and Chanyeol feared that he wouldn’t be able to stop it before it finally rested on the idea of separation.

He cut his conversations short and rushed towards the back room. For the fighters that brought in the most money, rooms were subjected to them so they could change, rest, and clean themselves up in private. Everyone else had to use the locker room. Obviously, Chanyeol was among the former group. He didn’t just bring in a lot of money for El Dorado, he brought in the most. And that was what the gold star on the outside of his door symbolized.

“Let’s get this over with, Chaeyoung,” Chanyeol said the moment he entered his dressing room. He didn’t even have to look around to know that his friend was already inside, waiting for him. Chaeyoung was another one of the money girls and in their time together, they’d grown quite close. During the day, she was studying to become a nurse so Chanyeol trusted her--and only her--to tend to his wounds after matches. “I need to get home.”

“Oh?” Chaeyoung’s smile was teasing as she walked towards the couch Chanyeol had collapsed on, first-aid kit in hand. “I heard you got busted today.” She was another one of the few at El Dorado who knew about Jongin. Baekhyun knew because he was his boss and he had to know. Chaeyoung did because Chanyeol actually trusted her.

“How the hell did that spread so fast?”

“Simple. Lisa.” Chaeyoung removed a soft cotton pad and doused it in alcohol. “A minute or so after she let Jongin and his friends in, she remembered how he was literally the one person that she was supposed to turn away and proceeded to tell everyone about it.” She laughed as she gentle cleaned the up the blood that had dried on the left half of Chanyeol’s face and even dripped down onto his collarbones. “No offense but I think it’s a little bit of your fault for entrusting her with such a huge responsibility.”

“She’s a bouncer. I don’t think I was stretching too far.”

“Mhm,” Chaeyoung hummed. She reached for some gauze and tape before securing it over the gash on Chanyeol’s forehead. “That Reo sure packs a punch for a rookie, doesn’t he?”

Chanyeol pulled away from Chaeyoung’s slender and curious fingers rather roughly. “Are you done? I told you I need to get home. I don’t have time for small talk.”

“Excuse me for trying to be nice.” Chaeyoung wasn’t offended by Chanyeol’s harsh tone. Not in the slightest. He could scream at the top of his lungs at her and she would still smile or laugh like it cuter than it was frightening. Sometimes he thought if she was capable of fear at all. “And yeah, I guess you’re done, but I’d advise being extra gentle on yourself this week. Those bruises on your ribs are going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow.”

“It’s nothing I’m not used to.” Chanyeol shrugged as she slipped a grey hoodie over his head. He winced when he rose his arms though and he hoped that she didn’t notice. “I’m a big boy now, remember?”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Chaeyoung put on a coat of her own. “Some of the rookies invited the girls and I out for drinks tonight. If Jongin throws you out, we’ll be at Universe pretty late.”

Despite the fact that he didn’t find it funny at all, Chanyeol graced her with a small chuckle. “Thanks.” It was nothing more than a light hearted joke between friends but her words rang in his head the whole drive back to his apartment. What if Jongin really was angry enough to kick him out? They had barely been living together for a month. They couldn’t afford a fight as big as that so early.

“I should’ve told him,” Chanyeol scolded himself as he unlocked the door to the apartment. Before he saw anything, he heard the gentle hum of the television, too quiet to make any out any words, but just loud enough to keep the viewer company. Before he pushed the door open all the way, Chanyeol took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart. This was a lost battle if he didn’t go in with a steady head.

“Jongin?” He called out meekly. “You up?”

Chanyeol got no answer but Jongin was, without a doubt, awake. He sat on the living room couch, completely wrapped up in a fluffy white blanket and his knees pulled up to his chin. The harsh light of the TV accented the fresh tear tracks on his cheeks. The guilt that churned Chanyeol’s insides was almost instinctive as soon as he noticed.

“J-Jongin,” he tried again, weaker this time. “Are you--”

“For the love of everything holy, Chanyeol, don’t you dare ask me if I’m alright.” Jongin’s voice was deeper than normal and scratchy. It had only sounded like that one time before. The day of his father’s funeral… after he cried for hours.

“Can I… Can I explain myself?”

“If you think it’ll help.”

Chanyeol pursed his lips before he mustered up the courage to advance toward Jongin. He knelt down at his feet and placed his face on his lap like he always did when he messed up. Granted, the previous mess ups that warranted such an apology were nothing major. Just a forgotten anniversary or that one time he passed his cold on to Jongin. During those times, Chanyeol knew he was forgiven when a hand began to play with his hair. That hand didn’t come this time nor did he expect it too. This, by itself, was worse than all of Chanyeol’s previous mistakes combined.

“I didn’t want to keep it a secret from you, Jongin. I-I really didn’t. I just… I was scared how you’d react.”

“So you didn’t trust me?”

“N-No!” Chanyeol was quick to clarify even though he knew almost nothing he could say would be able to change Jongin’s mind. “Of course I trust you, but this was different. It’s not the safest profession or most respectable so I thought you’d want me to quit.”

“And that’s where you lose me.” Jongin dropped the blanket off his shoulders and stared Chanyeol down with angry but glassy eyes. “I just--I just can’t figure out a moment in which I’ve said something that would make you believe I don’t care about your interests. Sure, I don’t like seeing you coming home looking like a punching bag, but for some odd reason, you enjoy it! I-I want you to be happy more than anything, Chanyeol. I could care less what you do in that fucking club. I’m just so damn angry that you kept it a secret. We’re supposed to tell each other everything but it feels like hundreds of those bastards in El Dorado know you better than me!” With each syllable, his voice grew louder. By the end of his sentence, he made Chanyeol flinch. “Are you aware how much this hurts, Chanyeol? To be lied to?”

“I--”

“I mean… I just don’t understand.” Jongin’s voice grew soft again and a few cracks came with. Each one put another crack in Chanyeol’s heart. “I just don’t understand what I-I did to make you stop trusting me.”

“W-What?” Chanyeol’s head snapped up just so he could shake it frantically and show Jongin just how much he hated hearing those words. “None of this, none of it at all, is your fault, Jongin.” In that moment, it felt like it would’ve been a good idea to grab the younger’s hands, but the possibility of rejected was what caused him to stuff his hands in his pockets. “I fucked up. Me. No one else and especially not you.”

“Then why? Why did you lie to me for a whole year?”

“I… I don’t know.” He wished he had a better answer because only God knew how much Jongin deserved it. “I was stupid. Scared.” Chanyeol bit down on his lip to stop anything else from coming out before he could get a handle of himself. He was dangerously close to losing it. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“It’s a bit too late for that.”

“I know, but… I’m so sorry, Jongin. I would do anything to make things right.”

Jongin’s lips thinning in place of an answer. He glanced quickly at the clock that sat beside them on the coffee table. The red digits read: 2:30 AM. They were both tired, both physically and mentally. Chanyeol, on his own, was still sticky with sweat but he wasn’t going to allow himself a shower or sleep until he knew Jongin was alright.

“I don’t even know where you could start.” Jongin used the back of his hand to wipe his newly fallen tears as he sniffed. “I-I’m going to go to bed, and when I wake up… I don’t want to see you.”

“Wait, Jongin, there’s still so much we have to talk about.”

“I’ve made up my mind.” He once again wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and rose to his feet. Jongin moved towards his bedroom effortlessly but every step he took was a dagger in Chanyeol’s hurt. “I’m not breaking up with you and I don’t want to either, but… I think a break would do us some good.”

“Jongin, please, don’t do this.” He knew he had more than a few things to fix but this wasn’t his soft-hearted Jongin. Such a rash decision didn’t come from him. Chanyeol sensed a strong presence of Taemin.

Jongin spun on his heel to face with a sad smile and tears dripping off his chin. “Consider this a good thing. Now you can focus on your career without worrying about the boyfriend you’ve left alone at home.” His smile fell in a millisecond and transformed his face into something with the same intensity as an ocean during a thunderstorm. “But that’s not much of a change, is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on twitter: @honeyglazeddd


	6. five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> three months later...

“Okay everyone, it’s time to start packing up. Your parents will be arriving soon!”

 

The worst part of Jongin’s work would always be ending class and having to part from the beloved children he taught. Ever since the beginning of his temporary separation from Chanyeol a few months ago, he’d taken on two extra time slots and substituted for anyone of his colleagues when they asked. The innocent smiles and cheerful attitudes of his students were the best medicine for his aching heart.

 

True to his word, dutiful mothers and fathers came in to pick up their kids and before they proceeded to ask their child how class went, majority of them formed a circle around Jongin to thank him for his time. They all spoke about how much their children adored him and it should’ve felt good. It really should’ve, but Jongin found himself converting the compliments into white noise, nodding and smiling until he has alone in practice room 2.

 

His basics of ballet class with kids ages four through six started and ended far earlier on a Saturday morning than Taemin or any other of the people he worked with liked to get up.

 

Jongin was completely alone.

 

He sucked on his bottom lip to keep his chin from trembling as he bent down to slowly undo the laces of his slippers. The truth was that he missed Chanyeol. There wasn’t a day that passed in which he could spend two hours without thinking about him. Sometimes he would stay up into the wee hours of the night just staring at his phone, mentally debating whether or not the break was going on too long.

 

It always ended the same way. Jongin would set down his phone, cry a little, and then drift off into a less than perfect sleep. He told himself that it wasn’t up to him to try and repair things. Chanyeol messed up so that was his job. Jongin expected days of silence from him but never the months he received. It was almost as if Chanyeol could care less.

 

Taemin said to give it one more week and if he still received no apology, it was time to end things officially. The raw idea of such a thing tied Jongin’s stomach into knots. He gave so much of his youth to Chanyeol. Throwing it all away simply didn’t feel right. 

 

The echo of sturdy shoes against the tile of the hallway outside the practice room broke Jongin from his thoughts. He assumed it was Taemin even though the sound was heavier than what normally belonged to him. Thankfully Jongin had been able to keep himself from crying so it was easy to collect himself and stand up from his crumpled position against the mirror wall.

 

“Hey Taemin,” he muttered as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. “I have a couple of hours before my next class so I’m just gonna go home and--” Jongin’s throat closed up the moment he realized the silhouette looming in the doorway wasn’t his friend. If it was, his heart wouldn’t be ready to beat straight through his chest.

 

“H-Hi.”

 

Chanyeol looked exactly like Jongin remembered him which may seem like a foolish observation, but in his head, it had been years upon years since they last talked to each other, much less stood face to face. He was still gangly and boyishly handsome. His hair was still the same obnoxious fire engine red he dyed it on a lost bet with a friend. The only difference in appearance that Jongin could spot was the large bandage taking up the expanse of his left cheek.

 

That alone was enough to harden his quickly softening heart. “What are you doing here, Chanyeol?”

 

“I wanted to talk with you.”

 

“Well it’s about time, isn’t it?”

 

Chanyeol winced like Jongin’s words cut through flesh. “I was busy being a coward, but I’m…. I’m ready to act like an adult. If you’ll give me the time, that is.” He stared down at his bloodied knuckles and shrugged. “And it’s fine if you don’t--”

 

“No!” It was too late by the time Jongin realized how eager he sounded. He tried thinking back to the tips Taemin gave him in case the situation in which he would have to face Chanyeol, but every single one of the eighty eight escaped him. “I mean… I want to talk too. W-Where?”

 

“Here’s good for me u-unless it isn’t for you.”

 

Jongin wasn’t used to an indecisive and submissive Chanyeol. He was so used to levels of confidence so high that it teetered the fence between charming and annoying. 

 

Time did neither of them any good.

 

“Here’s good for me too.” Jongin set down his bag before gesturing toward the door. “Come in and slide the door behind you shut.”

 

He wasted no time in obeying Jongin’s command, but that wasn’t exactly new.

 

“Make it quick,” Jongin said as he checked his watch. “I have to get home soon.” That was a lie. There was nothing waiting for him back at the apartment apart from a nice, warm bed. Chanyeol didn’t have to know that though.

 

“Alright, alright.” Chanyeol took tentative steps to close the chasm between them. His footsteps went from toe-to-heel like he was taking a stroll on thin ice. “I want to start with an apology and before you say anything, i-it’s not for what you think it is.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. Jongin had never seen him so small and defeated. “I’m sorry for not being the man you deserve, Jongin. If you can’t get a man free of flaws, the least you deserve is someone who can own up to their mistakes.”

 

After a thick gulp, Chanyeol shook his head. “I’m not that man.” He took miniscule pauses between each and every sentence and every time, Jongin wanted to jump in with an opinion of his own, but he was still beat to it for some reason. “I’m so far out of your league, Jongin, but there’s one thing that seperates be from the millions of men outside this building.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“I love you, Jongin,” Chanyeol whispered. His hands darted out to grasp Jongin’s. He kept a tight grip to prevent any slips. “I love you more than any one, thing, or animal that has come into my care.” Jongin felt a little awkward just standing there, unable to do much more than listen. “I thought this break would be easy because sad as I was when you suggested it, I assumed I could live without you. But I can’t. I just… no matter how hard I try, I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to either.”

 

Jongin knew what was coming so he was all the more impatient to hear it. “Get to the point.”

 

Chanyeol nodded. He tended to babble and a few months ago Jongin would’ve called it charming but times have changed. “The point is that I… I don’t wanna be on break anymore. I wanna go back to how we used to be.”

 

At that, a significant quote from Taemin began to bounce around his mind.  _ “If and when he apologizes, don’t let him back in right away. You want him to suffer as much as he made you, right?” _ In heated rants over a bottle of wine with his best friend, Jongin was excited to see Chanyeol squirm just a little, but as he gazed upon his hunched shoulders and misty eyes, it felt like a crime to harm a creature so vulnerable and innocent.

 

“Alright.”

 

“W-What?’

Jongin ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “I’ll give you a second chance, but I’m going to make myself real fucking clear here: you’re not going to get a third.”

 

Chanyeol stayed quiet for a few seconds as he processed the new information. “I won’t. I promise I won’t!” He lunged forward and grabbed Jongin’s waist, picking him up off the ground. When Chanyeol was happy, he liked to share the feeling. Jongin couldn’t help but giggle just a little. It was so fucking good to be held again. He missed Chanyeol’s strong arms and safe warmth far more than he realized while he was away from it. “I’m going to be the best boyfriend ever,” he chirped as he returned Jongin’s feet to the ground.

 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Jongin whispered but Chanyeol knew he was teasing when a soft hand cupped his uninjured cheeks. “Take me to all of your fights.”

 

The record for the shortest amount of time a drop of a mood could take would definitely go to Chanyeol in that very split second. “You’re not serious, are you?”

 

“I’m more than serious.” Jongin was back to stoic again. It was obvious that even though he forgave Chanyeol, the hurt was still there. It would probably take a few more months, maybe more, for his heart to totally heal. “You obviously enjoy it very much and I don’t want to be excluded from that.”

 

“You wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

 

“I’m going to be completely honest, I handled it a lot better than anyone else in my shoes would’ve last time.” Jongin knew he was being harsh but Chanyeol needed to hear everything he was saying. “If you want this relationship to work, you can’t keep pushing me away.”

 

“I’m not--”

 

“That’s the thing, Chanyeol! You are pushing me away, even if you can’t see it.” Jongin’s lips thinning. “There’s a whole side of you that I don’t know literally anything about while hundreds of strangers do. I don’t think that’s fair.” There was an odd expression on Chanyeol’s face that twisted his lips. If Jongin knew any better, he would call it regret. “Do you?”

 

“N-No.”

 

“Good.” Jongin picked his duffel bag back up and swung it over his shoulder. “If I really don’t like what I see or I can’t handle it, I’ll stop going, but until then… spare me some dignity and trust me enough to make my own decisions, alright?”

 

“Alright.”

 

Jongin smiled. “Good boy.” He reached up to ruffle Chanyeol’s hair and a spark of hope lit up inside both their chests. Things could be okay. If they played their cards right, everything would be back to normal in no time. “Let’s go home?”

 

Chanyeol seriously couldn’t be more happy to hear those three words. He looped his arm around Jongin’s shoulders, just the way he knew he liked it, and tugged him closer. “Let’s.”

 

Since Jongin had walked to his studio like he enjoyed doing, they took Chanyeol’s car back to the apartment. It wasn’t the beat up van he remembered but a gorgeous, sleek BMW. “And since when could you afford something like this?”

 

“The amount of billionaires that wander into El Dorado is hella crazy.” Chanyeol had a proud gleam to his face as he buckled into the driver’s seat. “They place bets among each other and along with the money the pledge to the winner, they offer prizes as incentive for us to win.”

 

“Ah.” Jongin couldn’t help but laugh. “So you’re basically a sugar baby now.”

 

Chanyeol mulled over that for a second before chuckling. “I guess you could say that.”

 

They spent the entirety of the car ride catching up with each other. It became painfully obvious that the both of them used work as a way to cope with the loss of each other. While Jongin took some new classes upon himself, Chanyeol started fighting not only Saturdays but Fridays as well. The rest of the week he took up some bartender shifts downstairs. 

 

“God, we need a break,” Chanyeol breathed as he pulled into his parking spot that had sat vacant for far too long. 

 

“Mhm, tell me about it.” Jongin sighed as he leaned back into the passenger seat. “My back has been killing me lately and all I want is a nice, hot bath. I don’t even have enough time for a cold shower longer than ten minutes.”

 

Chanyeol grimaced. “When did you say your next class started?”

 

“In around three hours.”

 

“Interesting.” Chanyeol nodded slowly as the gears inside his head starting turning. “I want you to go upstairs and take a nap until you have to leave. Once you get back, I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

 

“Oh Chanyeol, you don’t have to--”

 

“Yes I do. Now go upstairs before I throw you over my shoulder.”

 

Jongin couldn’t contain his grin as he stepped out of the car. At this rate, he was ready to give Chanyeol a lot more than just a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on twitter: @honeyglazeddd


	7. six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chanyeol makes it up to jongin the best ways he knows how.

If he was going to be painfully honest, Chanyeol didn’t expect Jongin to take him back so easily. Walking into his dance studio, he was both physically and mentally prepared to be turned around. Jongin was forgiving and kind, yes, but there were lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Chanyeol managed to cross all of them and more. If that wasn’t enough to change someone’s personality, he didn’t know what was.

 

A different kind of love and relief lit up inside his chest when Jongin agreed to give him a second chance. He had to take a quick second to himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Keeping his hopes down was a great idea in hindset because Chanyeol didn’t think he’d ever been so happy. His first date with Jongin, the day his sister got married, the first fight he won… none of it could compare to the joy that stretched his smile from ear to ear in that practice room.

 

That joy was what had him prancing around his familiar but still a little different apartment even hours after Jongin left to teach his second class of the day. Chanyeol wanted to make everything up to his boyfriend in every way that he could. Currently he was tidying the living room up as Jongin’s favorite frozen fried chicken thawed on the kitchen counter. Normally, he hated chores and no one knew the cranky attitude he got when he was told to clean better than Jongin. If he saw the way Chanyeol hummed to himself with a slight smile as he swept the wooden floors, he would’ve been completely and utterly baffled.

 

Hell, even yesterday’s Chanyeol wouldn’t know what was going on.

 

But then he’d remember the things he’d do if he knew they would benefit Jongin in the long run and it would all make sense. Back when they were still in separate apartments, living off package ramen, and Chanyeol was just beginning his career in fighting… things weren’t going too hot. He took the job because he heard of the handsome sums winners earned and he wanted to take Jongin on a date worthy of him. Unfortunately, in his first two months, he hadn’t managed to win one match.

 

One day he put a picture of his boyfriend up in his locker and went on to win every fight every since.

 

Jongin was his lucky charm. Always had, always will be.

 

Now that they were back together, everything felt right in the world again and Chanyeol would do just about anything to keep it that way.

 

Including chores.

 

In a matter of two hours, Chanyeol was standing at the door of the apartment, a broom in his hand and sweat dripping from his brow. “Oh my God.” Not to pat himself on the back or anything, but the apartment looked fucking _good._ The floor was clean enough to use as a mirror, the couch cushions were fluffed to perfection, and the multiple candles Chanyeol lit cast a thick yet pleasant floral aroma from wall to wall.

 

His work wasn’t done there, though. He still had miles to run until he truly made it up to Jongin. Setting aside his broom in a random closet, Chanyeol ran to the kitchen, using the slip and slide of his socks on the clean floor to his advantage. He grabbed the bag of fried chicken, dumping a handful of pieces onto a tray before shoving it into the oven. Both he and Jongin were the type of people to be careful of what they put into their bodies, but today seemed like as good of a day as ever to cheat just a little.

 

A sudden ringing snapped Chanyeol from his utopian daze. He wanted to say that he ignored it, that his efforts to make his boyfriend happy were above any call from any number, but he couldn’t. Not in good conscious.

 

Chanyeol took his time in walking towards his cell phone which rested on top of the television, by the door. His face soured at just the sight of Emilio’s name blinking up at him.

 

“What?” He spat as soon as he answered.

 

_“Woah there. Someone’s cranky.”_

 

“It’s my day off, Emilio. What do you want?”

 

He could only imagine the way his boss was leaning back in his plush desk chair, his legs kicked up as he expected the fresh manicure on his free hand. _“You can calm down. I’m not going to ask you to come in. I just wanted… to check up on you.”_

 

“And since when did you care about my life outside the rink?”

 

_“Since a little birdy told me that they saw you entering your ex’s dance studio today.”_

 

Chanyeol, already fed up with the conversation, let his eyes wander towards the clock resting on the wall to his side. He didn’t have much time until Jongin came home and there was still so much he wanted to do. “First of all, there are a whole lot of things wrong with what you just said. Jongin is _not_ my ex and even if he was, why is where I go on my off days any of your business?”

 

 _“We talked about this, Chanyeol,”_ purred Emilio. _“We talked about how that boy’s no good for you.”_

 

Chanyeol growled softly. He could reluctantly admit that in one of his lowest moments during his separation from Jongin, he accepted Emilio’s invitation for drinks after a tough match. It should’ve been fishy from the very start, the whole interactions with your boss outside of work thing, but Chanyeol was just desperate for any sort of human comfort. He couldn’t go to Minho or any of his other college friends because he shared them with Jongin, or Chaeyoung because of his pride. Emilio was nothing more than a fallback.

 

Anyway, he drank more than he should’ve and spilled more secrets that he should’ve.

 

Emilio was definitely not below using anything he learned that night against Chanyeol.

 

“You don’t know him.”

 

_“I know he’s controlling and manipulative. I mean, you’ve gotta be a fool to not see the way he’s playing with you, Chanyeol.”_

 

“I thought I made it clear to keep his name out of your mouth.”

 

 _“Oh , what are you going to do? Punch me?”_ Emilio paused for a moment. _“Whatever. I have a club to get back to. We’ll talk more when you come in on Saturday.”_

 

Chanyeol grunted, fully prepared to leave that as his goodbye before Emilio was opening his mouth again. _“Also, you know that everything I say, I say because I care for you, right?”_

 

Up to his neck with bullshit, Chanyeol hung up instead of answering. Emilio had a whole lot of nerve calling Jongin manipulative when he himself was the master of the art. Many of the people working under Emilio in El Dorado were there because of debts they owned him. Behind his boyish good looks and playful personality, Emilio was a conniving bitch.

 

Chanyeol felt himself heating up, his anger eating away at the happiness he was experiencing before. “No, no, no.” He set down his phone and shook his shoulders a little as if to shake away the negative vibes.

 

There was one last part to his elaborate plan and he was going to see it through, no matter what. Making sure to leave his phone long behind, Chanyeol advanced towards the bathroom. His last conversation with Jongin was basically a plea for some well deserved pampering, and he would be a pretty shitty boyfriend to just ignore it.

 

Chanyeol twisted the tub’s knob and waited until the water it was spewing was warm to plug it up. Next he added Jongin’s favorite bubble bath. Apple cinnamon. His final touches were dimmed lights and moving all the scented candles from the kitchen and living room to the bathroom, making them the main source of light.

 

Jongin would be back in a matter of minutes and Chanyeol _really_ hoped he’d like it.

 

~

 

“Oh my God.”

 

When Jongin came back from his class, shoulders hunched and sweaty, Chanyeol was waiting for him at the door with a bouquet of roses in his hands. He froze completely in the doorway, his jaw falling open and his arms limp at his side. “Chanyeol,” he breathed. “Did you… clean?” Jongin took small and careful steps inside. If one didn’t know any better, they might think that he was entering some sort of parallel universe.

 

“I did. Is that so surprising?”

 

Jongin’s hands went out to accept the flowers but his eyes were still elsewhere, scanning every nook and cranny of the spotless apartment. “This is too much.”

 

“You haven’t even seen everything yet.”

 

“Chanyeol--”

 

“Jongin, c’mon.” He took Jongin’s face into his hands and smiled sweetly as he could. Just off his expression, Chanyeol could tell how uncomfortable he was. It had been a long time since the two of them had done anything “coupley”, so something as sudden as this must feel weird. Either way, Chanyeol was determined to finally make Jongin relax. “Let yourself have this. God knows you deserve it.”

 

The younger pursed his lips. “W-Well since you did so much…”

 

“Mhm.” Chanyeol wrapped his hand around the back of Jongin’s head and pulled him close enough to press a light kiss against the crown of his head. With him finally in his arms, it was becoming more and more unbelievable to think that Baekhyun--or anyone, for that matter--could think anything bad about his angel. “Good boy. Come with me.”

 

Grasping his hand softly, Chanyeol pulled him towards their bathroom. Upon first glance, Jongin gasped. “Holy hell.”

 

“Like it?”

 

Jongin laughed breathily. “When did you even get the time for all this?”

 

“I work surprisingly fast when I put my mind to it.”

 

“Jesus.” Jongin ran his hand through his hair and held it at the base of his neck. “This is amazing, Chanyeol. Thank you.”

 

“It’s the least I could do.” After a few beats of silence, Chanyeol cleared his throat. “Well I-I guess I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything--”

 

“Wait.” As if it was muscle memory, Chanyeol stopped at the sound of Jongin’s voice. “You’re… you’re leaving me?”

 

“What do you…”

 

Jongin turned to face him, a sheepish but confident smile playing on his lips. “You worked so hard to put all this together.” He crept closer, his steps small but graceful. He yanked Chanyeol down by the collar of his shirt so their lips and noses brushed deliciously against each other. “And you’re not going to enjoy any of it?”

 

“What--”

 

“I’m asking you to join me, idiot,” Jongin chuckled as he nipped at Chanyeol’s bottom lip. “Quite frankly, it’s been far too long since I’ve had you inside me.” And if Chanyeol wasn’t already semi-hard, that would’ve done it. “You gonna say anything?”

 

“I-I… yes.”

 

Jongin laughed. “I’ll pretend that made sense.” He abruptly released Chanyeol and spun around, pressing his back against him. With his ass sitting snugly on Chanyeol’s growing member, Jongin began to remove his clothes. His pants were the first to go and everything else followed until he was naked.

 

Chanyeol’s view was less than perfect, but he didn’t need it be to truly appreciate just how beautiful Jongin was. Just the sight of his unblemished and beautiful honeyed skin was enough to snap Chanyeol out of his momentary funk. “You’ve got no idea what you’re in for,” he snarled, running his hands down the expanse of Jongin’s flat stomach, stopping at his pretty dick.

 

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can take it.” He sounded pretty brave for the fact his back arched the moment Chanyeol’s fingers so much as brushed him.

 

“Shouldn’t we get in the tub now? Before it gets cold, I mean.”

 

“That’s gotta be the smartest thing y-you’ve said all day.” Jongin let Chanyeol remove his grip for a few moments because it meant he was taking off his clothes. He watched in heated interest as he got rid of his shirt last, revealing the most beautiful and sculpted upper body. An ugly bruise marred his skin right beside his left hip and if Jongin wasn’t so desperate, he would’ve pointed it out.

 

“Ready, baby?”

 

“Hell yeah.”

 

Chanyeol lurched forward, grasping the backs up Jongin’s thighs and basically throwing him up until he found sense enough to wrap his legs around Chanyeol’s waist. As he moved the both of them into the water, Jongin took the initiative of starting a heated kiss. Though he started it, it wasn’t long until Chanyeol was taking over and setting a pace of his own.

 

“God, I missed this,” Jongin sighed as the warm water enveloped a good majority of his body.

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

Jongin absolutely loved the sensation of Chanyeol’s lips moving against his own in an action that wasn’t a kiss but a conversation. He loved it almost as much as he loved the way Chanyeol dragged his nails lightly down his spine and prodded at his sensitive hole. It had been more than awhile since anything had been inside him so the breach of the first finger was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, but not unwelcome. Chanyeol made it pleasant with gentle kisses along his collarbone and a tight grip on his hip with his other hand.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he slipped the second finger in the moment Jongin’s breathing leveled. “I’m so fucking lucky to call you mine.” In that tub, surrounded by each other and the gentle smell of flowers, everything felt alright. Normal. It was as if nothing happened between them, like they were the perfect couple they were two months ago. Oh God, what the two of them would give for that to be true.

  
“You’re talking.” Jongin started out with a confident tone but it was long gone the moment Chanyeol added the third digit. At this point, there was no point in hiding how hard and desperate he was. Sex with Chanyeol normally wasn’t so… rushed. The both of them liked to take things slow and build each other up until they couldn’t possibly get any higher. If tonight wasn’t the perfect example of how deprived they were, Jongin didn’t know what was. “Fuck me, Chanyeol. Please, please, please, _please_ fuck me. I need you so bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the awkward ending and overall shitty chapter. i'm tired.
> 
> follow me on twitter: @honeyglazeddd


	8. seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!!
> 
> just wanted to clarify that the character of baekhyun has been changed to “emilio”. spoiler alert but he gets kinda bad n i don’t wanna write my baby like that
> 
> anyways, please enjoy!

Ever since his phone call with Emilio, Chanyeol feared returning to work on Saturday. He just repaired his relationship with Jongin, and he was scared that his boss was going to say something that would make him choose between the job he adored and the boy he loved. Obviously, he would choose Jongin. He made that mistake once. It was the future that scared him. Before he got a job at El Dorado, he did some freelance photography and guitar lessons for children, but neither job brought in nearly as much money as fighting.

 

Jongin wanted a kid. Chanyeol worried about supporting one financially if he lost his job.

 

Chanyeol arrived at work a whole hour early, just so he could talk himself up. Jongin and Taemin would be coming later to watch his fight, and he was struggling to decide whether or not that was a good thing.

 

While he sat with his head in his hands in his dressing room, wallowing in his own misery, someone knocked their knuckles against his door.

 

“Who is it?” he croaked.

 

“Chaeyoung.”

 

“Come in.”

 

Chaeyoung pushed her way in, looking beautiful as ever. Even her bright smile wasn’t enough to lift his spirits. “Shit. You look like hell.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“What’s up?”

 

Chanyeol pursed his lips. He knew he could trust Chaeyoung with most things, but when it came to Emilio, nothing was set in stone. “Jongin and I are back together.”

 

“That’s great news!” Chaeyoung chirped. “Shouldn’t you be happy then?”

 

“Emilio found out. Somehow. I don’t know… it’s just, he doesn’t like Jongin because he thinks he’ll get in the way of me and my fighting.” His thoughts were so scattered, he could barely piece them all together. “I respect Emilio. He’s a great boss, but I’ve never appreciated the way he speaks about Jongin.”

 

Chaeyoung hopped up on the counter in front of him, swinging her bare legs that barely touched the ground. “He’s never had a problem with me and Lisa.”

 

“Yeah, that’s because perverts tip extra when you two make out.” When Chanyeol looked to Chaeyoung, she just shrugged, unable to protest. “Emilio’s got it into his head that Jongin will get in my way. He’s never given details, but he’s quick to talk shit.”

 

“And that surprises you?”

 

Chanyeol groaned. “You could at least pretend to care.”

 

“I do care.” Chaeyoung had this one look, one where her eyebrows turned down and the corners of her lips twitched in a contained smile. Whenever he saw that look, he knew she was silently calling him an idiot. “It’s just that Emilio is just a man. He can’t make you break up with Jongin, can’t hurt him, and will definitely never fire you because you bring the most money in. Even if he does happen to threaten you, you’re like a foot taller. Show him who’s boss, throw him over your shoulder, kick him in the balls. Whatever it takes.”

 

Laughing, Chanyeol shook his head. “Violence is your solution to everything.”

 

“Says you.”

 

Chanyeol couldn’t go around man handling his boss of average height, but Chaeyoung masterfully lightened his mood. Even with the lack of real advice. All he had to do was stand his ground, and his job as well as his relationship will be safe. 

 

“Who are you fighting today?” Chaeyoung asked suddenly, afraid of silence.

 

“Um… can’t recall the name, but I remember thinking ‘he’s good’, when I first heard it.” 

 

Chaeyoung’s pretty lips formed a pout as she seemed to mull over possible candidates. “Reo?”

 

“Nah. I think I finally pounded the fact that he can’t beat me into his head.”

 

“Ares?”

 

“No.”

 

“Victor?”

 

“Chaeyoung, this is stupid.”

 

“Talon?” she inquired, ignoring him--as she tended to do.

 

“For the last time, I can’t remember the na--”

 

A knock at the door sounded, louder and harsher than the manner in which Chaeyoung did it. He didn’t have to think twice to know who stood outside. “Yes?”

 

“Meet me in my office in two minutes.”

 

No introduction. No greeting. No farewell. It could be no one else but Emilio. Chanyeol stood up right away. He had two minutes to spare, but he didn’t want to risk upsetting his boss. “Okay, wish me luck.”

 

“Good luck,” Chaeyoung said, giggling. “Can I call the rest of the girls in here while you’re gone? Hanging out at the bar with everyone else kinda sucks.” 

 

“I don’t care. Just clean up after yourselves.”

 

“No thanks!” Chaeyoung called out to his retreating figure. Chanyeol could’ve kept the banter going, but he had no desire to waste precious energy on that. Using up all his wit was a common occurrence, and he needed all he could get of it as well as energy if he meant to complete a verbal stand off with Emilio. 

 

The boss’s office was a turn away from Chanyeol’s room, also located in the locker room. His door was unmarked and unlocked all the time, but every employee of El Dorado knew better than to go within two feet of it without invitation. It should’ve been comical. A bunch of strong, seasoned fighters being terrified of such a small man, but Emilio had an aura that put any sort of predator from the animal kingdom to shame. If Chanyeol was to hear from anyone that Emilio arm wrestled a tiger and won, he would believe them. Without hesitation.

 

Inhaling deeply, Chanyeol wrapped his knuckles against the office door three times. “Hi Emilio, it’s Chanyeol.”

 

The entrance swung open right away, revealing a modest office. Emilio sat at his desk, a large man in a fancy suit on either side of him. When speaking of how scary he was, his bodyguards were not to be forgotten. No one dared to hurt him, but if they tried, these men had the ability to snap a spine in half before one could get close. 

 

“Hi Chanyeol. Take a seat, please.”

 

There were many options of seating scattered across the room, but Chanyeol took the sensible one across the desk. It was a pathetic excuse for a chair. In hit, he felt similar to a canned sardine. Emilio did that on purpose. Chanyeol felt stupid, handing the upper hand over to the other before the conversation even started.

 

“What is it you want to talk about?”

 

“I don’t think this is much of a secret, but… your boyfriend.”

 

Chanyeol struggled to swallow around the nervous lump in his throat. “What about him?”

 

“How is he?”

 

Chanyeol waited to answer, waited for an addition to the question. Emilio only stared back at him, his face unreadable. “Um… he’s doing well, thank you.”

 

“Oh that’s good to hear. You two make an attractive couple.”

 

The atmosphere grew thicker with each passing second. Emilio was not the small talk type, and his attempt had Chanyeol on the edge of his seat, ready for anything and fearful of everything. “Th-Thank you.”

 

“Except that, past surface level, I don’t see much compatibility.”

 

And there it was. Chanyeol shifted in his seat--or tried to. Emilio’s calculating eyes tracked his every moment, and he had to wonder where the confidence he felt with Chaeyoung went. “What do you mean?”

 

“We’ve talked about this before, but since you like to make me repeat myself, he gets in the way of your passion. That’s quite the red flag, if you ask me.”

 

Sure, Chanyeol took less fights to make more time for Jongin, but other than that, he disliked the way Emilio spoke like they were friends. He knew nothing about his personal life, and he sure as hell knew nothing about Jongin. “I’m content with my schedule.”

 

“That’s not what I’m referring to.” Emilio chuckled. “Well, that was the problem at first, but now it’s the fact that your mind turns to mush when you see him. Now that he knows your secret and will be attending more frequently, I’m afraid your performance will be impacted. Negatively.”

 

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t agree. What happened last time he came was just out of shock. It won’t happen again.”

 

Emilio’s lips thinned, showing his distrust. “I sure hope that’s true. Just… don’t break your winning streak, or I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

 

Chanyeol couldn’t help but frown at the anonymity of such a statement. “I’m sorry, what is that supposed to mean?”

 

Emilio leaned back in his armchair and let his perfect posture crumble. As if that was some sort of cue, his guards stiffened and took one step from where they were standing. One step closer to Chanyeol. “I’m done with this conversation. You may go get ready, and good luck. You’re going to need it.”

 

~

 

“I still can’t believe you got back together with him.”

 

“Taemin,” Jongin started in a warning tone. “If you’re going to do this again, I refuse to talk to you for the rest of the night.”

 

“I just have so many questions that you haven’t answered!” Jongin stayed mum to signal to Taemin that he will go through with his threat, but it was misread as endearment. “All he did was flatter you, say sorry, and you fell for it?”

 

Staying quiet was too difficult. “I didn’t  _ fall  _ for anything! Not everything about Chanyeol is a lie. I know he’s an honest guy, and I know he cares. Unlike you, revenge fantasies aren’t my thing.” He paused. “Anyways, I missed him.” 

 

“Please. You’re weak,” Taemin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“If I wasn’t driving, I’d kick you.”

 

Taemin opted to turn the volume of the radio up until both their ears hurt. The song was neither of their tastes, but they would rather suffer than continue the conversation. Other topics weren’t an option. They simply couldn’t focus on anything else.

 

Jongin knew Taemin meant well. He loved his best friend for always looking out for him, but he was yet to doubt his decision to let Chanyeol back in his life. The past day and a half had been the happiest he’d been in a long time. Chanyeol was his other piece. No matter how angry he was, life after the makeup was always sugar sweet.

 

“Let’s not fight,” Jongin said as he turned the radio off and rolled to a stop. “Can’t we just agree that this is my decision?”

 

“Fine by me. Don’t expect me to be nice when things don’t work out, though.” 

 

“You? Nice.” Jongin scoffed and Taemin hit his arm with an offended squawk. Just like that, they were in perfect shape again. It was easy to get back on Taemin’s good side after getting off it. Simply throw a moderately funny joke out there or do a minimum of two things he wants in a row. It’s a good thing Taemin was forgiving too. Otherwise, Jongin would’ve been found in a ditch on the side of the road at least three months into their friendship. 

 

“Shut up. Let’s just go inside.”

 

Minho wasn’t happy that Taemin and Jongin were going to El Dorado without him, but he had inescapable family conflicts. Jongin wasn’t about to miss Chanyeol’s first fight since they got back together either. He was going to measure their relationship’s potential to repair itself on how he felt watching Chanyeol fight when Chanyeol knew he was there.

 

Everything was a test these days.

 

Once on the top floor, Jongin recognized the girl at the door as Lisa. She lit up at the sight of them, waving like a child and practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. Either she was mind numbingly bored or horrible at her job.

 

Based on stories from Chanyeol, Jongin concluded that it was a mix of both.

 

“Hi, hi, hi! I didn’t think I’d see you two so soon. Is Minho here?”

 

“Not today, doll,” Taemin said.

 

Lisa frowned. “Awe, well, tell him I said ‘hi’ when you see him!” She opened the velvet rope separating them from the festivities. “Have fun. I heard it’s going to be one helluva fight today.”

 

Jongin pretended he was happy to hear that and smiled. “Thank you. See you around.”

 

Taemin made a beeline for the bar. Afraid to be left alone, Jongin followed, but his eyes stayed glued to the pair currently in the ring. He, obviously, had no idea who either of the men were, but the way they were covered in cuts and bruises was a knife through his heart. The almost rabid crowd made no sense to him at all. He didn’t find a single thing about the whole event enjoyable.

 

“You just paled like ten shades,” Taemin pointed out, handing an open bottle of beer to Jongin.

 

“I’m worried for Chanyeol.”

 

“Which is normal.” Taemin nudged his shoulder playfully. “I know it’s tough, but he’s unbeaten, remember? Also, there are refs. He’s never gonna leave here with more than a bad cut.” 

 

“Mhm. I guess.” 

 

Taemin continued to talk, but Jongin couldn’t bring himself to pay attention. He watched the fight in nervous anticipation until the one in red shorts turned his opponent’s head 90 degrees, ending the match and eliciting deafening cries from the crowd. “Let’s grab a seat.”

 

Jongin pulled on Taemin’s sleeve with his free hand, maneuvering them to a bleacher two rows from the front. He wasn’t ready for that close of proximity yet. 

 

Somewhere in between Chanyeol arriving in the ring, getting beaten to a bloody pulp, and somehow winning anyway, Jongin’s thumb nail found its way into his mouth. He used to have the bad habit of biting his nails, but he stopped unless he was nervous. Chanyeol would normally pull his finger from his mouth when he noticed, but since he wasn’t there to do so, Jongin gnawed right through.

 

The crowd took fifteen minutes to disperse. Even then, handfuls were still finishing up at the bar or trying to get the number on one of the money girls. 

 

Jongin stayed seated. Taemin was talking again, but he only had eyes for Chanyeol as he staggered in their direction. He wore a familiar dopey but lovable smile like his completely busted lip was not of importance. “Jongin!” His arms were extended. For a brief moment, the thought of not hugging him back crossed his mind. Hating himself for even considering it, Jongin wrapped his boyfriend’s sweaty, nearing disgusting, body close to himself.

 

“How was it?” Chanyeol whispered.

 

“Horrible.” He never wanted to let go. If he didn’t, Chanyeol couldn’t keep getting hurt. “Your opponent was too mean.” 

 

Chanyeol’s chuckle was deep in his ear and sent shivers down his spine. “That’s his job, baby.”

 

Jongin buried his head deeper into Chanyeol’s nape. He had nothing to say. All he wanted was to be snuggled against Chanyeol at home, surrounded by blankets and pillows instead of drunk assholes and odd stenches.

 

“Alright.” Taemin cleared his throat. “Imma head out.” He fished Jongin’s keys from his front pocket. “I’ll take your car back to your place.”

 

“Thank you,” Chanyeol told him when Jongin refused to move enough to send his friend off. “Get home safe.”

 

“You’re going to have to let me go eventually.” 

 

Jongin shook his head. “False.”

 

Chanyeol laughed, ruffling his hair, but making sure to keep one arm fastened securely around Jongin’s waist. “Here, how about this. Come to the locker room with me so I can clean up, and once we’re home, we can cuddle all night and all day tomorrow.”

 

Jongin shifted, contemplating the options. He still didn’t love the idea of separation, even for a second, but the pros of heading home and being able to hold Chanyeol in the comfort and privacy of their own home were endless. He unstuck his face and pulled away slowly like the process was physically painful. “... fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on twitter! @honeyglazeddd

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @honeyglazeddd


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